Last week I saw a news story about a Canadian man who was vacationing with his wife in the Dominican Republic. As he was about to return home from his vacation he was arrested for drug smuggling and held in a Dominican jail for 71 days. Someone had apparently switched his name tag onto a bag filled with illegal drugs. His wife returned home to Canada while he awaited trial for a crime he had not committed. A legal team and a sizeable chunk of money later he was released, the charges against him dropped. Upon his arrival he told a reporter that he had a renewed appreciation for his life and his relationships. He said he wanted to spend more time appreciating those aspects of his life. Sometimes we have to lose something in order to find something.
I have never spent time in jail but the story reminded me of similar losses – life events – where I was able to find gifts within something I had lost. One of those moments was just last year when my dear friend Caleb died suddenly. I can still remember the day I learned of his death. My whole world view changed that day, I felt as if my senses had been opened as never before – the brilliance of nature, the incredible sound of a songbird, the joy of watching a child play in the park. All of these things I missed or at least remained in my periphery the days before. I felt so clear eyed and present in my life at that moment, so clear of how I needed to live out the rest of my days.
The thing is that the gift of my awareness did not persist, at least not as fully as I then imagined. I can recall it now if I reflect on it, but my clear eyed perception slowly faded over time. How big a thing do we have to lose before we never forget? I’m not sure of the answer, I guess it’s probably different for everyone. I remember once attending a workshop with a group of cancer survivors. They impressed me so much with their commitment to live a meaning-full life – to never again be worried over small things. Some even insisted that it was the change itself that had resulted in their cure. That weekend I remember saying to myself that I would not need a fatal illness to remind me of what was most important – I would begin living that life that very day! Of course that promise was made in part out of fear and I probably once again lost a bit of that reminder as I proceeded on with my life. That said, perhaps there is an accumulative effect with each lost and found.
Every day in our community clinic I meet folks who have lost something – their health, a relationship, a loved one, hope. Sitting all together in community I am reminded that we are not alone in our losses, just as we are not alone in our discoveries. Out of loss comes many gifts – reminders of how precious life is. From this awareness we become a better version of ourselves, we become better humans. So remember that the next time you lose something, whether it’s something small like your cellphone, or something big like a loved one, take time to find the gift in the loss, and when you find that gift be sure to share it with others.